mater semper certa est
by TenTenD
Summary: When Lyanna decided to vent out her frustration, she never thought she would be returning home with an armful of child - in a most literal way. But apparently, that was her fate. Or that AU in which Lyanna Stark raises Daenerys Targaryen.


Lyanna got off her bicycle with a small curse. She wiped the tears from her eyes in a manner that had the faintest traces of aggressiveness. They were blurring her vision and sooner or later she would crash into a tree and break something. And yet she was so very angry at the moment that she simply couldn't hold back her sobs.

"I hate that bastard, son of a bitch," she said to no one in particular. Licentious vocabulary was not among her favourite means of expressing herself. At times, however, it was inevitable. And circumstances had made it impossible for her to avoid it.

One might wonder what a young woman was doing out in the middle of nowhere, on her own, without another soul near. One might even be right to feel some anxiety at the facts presented. One would not be entirely wrong in worrying over the fate of the young woman. Lyanna bit back another sob.

It was all Robert's fault, she decided in the next moment. She should have held onto her opinion of him. She should've throws those flowers back into his arms and closed the door in his face. That pig deserved every single insult her vocabulary contained. She should have never allowed her brother to convince her to give Robert Baratheon even the slightest attention. It had caused her nothing but heartache.

Never mind that Robert had flirted with half the population – of the female variety, mind you – of King's landing even as he professed his love to her; she wasn't even bothered by Mya Stone as much as she thought she would be, but what ate her inside out was that he dared demand of her what he was not willing to give himself. That the man had no decency whatsoever, Lyanna had suspected, but that he would blatantly display such a fact before her and the whole of her family, she had not thought. Robert Baratheon wanted her respect and her affection, but he treated her as one would a pretty bauble.

She wanted to scream at him that she wasn't some tart to be put on display and to be marvelled at by his cronies. She was an educated woman, the sister of his best friend and, more importantly, a human being just like him. She had the right to be heard. For the love of everything holy, she would not allow him to denigrate her.

In fact, Lyanna was quite pleased with how she had ended their acquaintance. Robert had, as he usually did, come for dinner to their house. Lyanna had been discussing with Benjen the latest addition she planned to write down in her novel, when Robert had begun mocking her work, asking her if all that thinking wasn't taxing her. Lyanna had merely told him that contemplation was an acquired taste, hoping to dissuade him from any other attempt. Unfortunately, Robert had not understood the message behind her words. She should have tried sign language, in retrospect, it might have proved more useful. Yet Robert had persisted, in that annoying way of his. He'd even gone so far as to tell her that he hoped she would not continue with such trite hobbies once she was his wife.

At that, Lyanna had looked straight into his eyes and declared that she wouldn't have him for the world. She couldn't be expected to pursue a relationship with a man who neither understood her, nor the very least respected her.

That later, after he'd gone, she had stormed out of the house on her own, was more a sign of frustration than regret. Or so Lyanna told herself. She was yet young. There was time to find another suitor. After all, Robert was all good and well, but he wasn't the only man to have ever show interest in her. Comforted, in a small measure, by such thoughts Lyanna felt her rage dissipate. There was hardly any reason for her to think on Robert any longer.

That episode of her life and over and done with. The conclusion naturally forced her mind in another direction. Lyanna found that the utter solace she had wrapped herself in was quite frankly disconcerting. It was rather dark and she would have felt much better on one of the main alleys. Turning around slowly, she climbed back on her bicycle and rode away. It took mere minutes to reach the principal road. Relief flooded Lyanna. Well, the next time she decided to vent her frustration out in the wild – or park, really – she would make sure to drag one of her brothers with her. Safety was in numbers, after all.

Thankfully, she neared the bend and in a few more minutes she would be back home. Lyanna stopped momentarily. She slid from her place and bent over to adjust a strap on her shoe. It looked ready to come apart. When she was done, intending to reclaim her place, Lyanna dusted herself off.

Only a small sound stopped her from proceeding. Craning her neck at an uncomfortable angle, she tried to determine the source of the sound. The same discordant noise reached her ears again. It almost sounded like an animal in pain. And it was coming from one of the bushes.

Approaching quietly, Lyanna peered behind said bush. A large bad lay there, innocently enough. Had it not been from the sounds coming from inside, Lyanna would not have spared it anymore attention. Yet the horrifying thought struck her even as she opened the bag.

"Oh, dear gods!" the exclamation left her lips unchecked.

Inside, a fussing, whimpering bundle wept. Lyanna took the child out, struggling to hold it. "Hello there, do not cry, little one." But there was no reasoning with the probably hungry, wet and cold dear. "Let us get you home then, shall we?" She barely took a peek to see the gender.

It looked like she wouldn't be riding her bicycle. She had no basket to put the child in.

Her father would likely not see it with good eyes, but Lyanna's heart had made a decision. And she did not care if it displeased anyone.


End file.
